Chapter 12 #2
A small structure that was about twenty feet from the restaurant was engulfed in flames. The fire burned so high and bright that Dahlia knew right away it had been started with magic.
But by whom? She frantically started looking around, searching for anyone who could have sabotaged the brew shed. She just prayed she didn’t see a T-bird parked anywhere nearby or the gorgeous man who’d been showing up in her dreams lately.
Go help them, a familiar voice said into her ear.
Dahlia spun around, “Gwynn?”
But no one was there. Had she imagined the voice? She quickly looked in her shoulder bag for the journal but wasn’t surprised not to see it there. It should be on the end table in her living room where she’d left it.
“Is your godmother here?” Harlow asked, glancing around the area.
“I thought I heard her, but no, I don’t think so.” Dahlia frowned, certain that she’d heard Gwynn’s voice. But how could that be? She hadn’t actually heard her since she died. They’d only communicated through the journal.
“Come on.” Harlow tugged her away from the fire as Yvette Townsend appeared and started to throw her magic at the flames.
A crowd was gathering to watch as Yvette and another man from the fire department did everything they could to combat the blaze.
Sweat was pouring from Yvette’s face, but she didn’t stop what she was doing to try to wipe it away.
Both hands were outstretched, ribbons of magic streaming from her fingertips.
The other man had stopped trying to control the fire with magic and ran back to the fire truck for the hose.
“Watch out!” he cried just before a blast of water hit it.
Yvette didn’t flinch and kept up her relentless magical attack, and that, along with the water, finally got the blaze under control. The fire witch finally dropped her hands and then slumped against the wall of the brewery building.
Dahlia ran over to her. “Are you all right? Can I get you something? Water maybe?”
“Water,” she croaked out as she swiped at her face. She leaned against the wall and then let herself slide down into a squatted position.
“I’ll be right back,” Dahlia promised. She ran into the brewery but didn’t see anyone behind the counter or in the back, so she made an executive decision to help herself to a couple bottles of water out of the cooler.
Then she ran back to Yvette, finding her sitting on the cement with her eyes closed.
Dahlia opened one of the water bottles and pressed it into her hand.
“Thank you,” Yvette croaked out and took a long sip. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at Dahlia. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Uh, no, I think that’s you. Can I get you anything else?”
She shook her head, an auburn lock of hair falling into her eyes. Yvette brushed it back and took another swig of water.
“Yvette?” A man in a sheriff’s uniform strode toward her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Drew. Just a little depleted.”
The sheriff nodded at Dahlia before turning his attention back to Yvette. “What happened?”
“No idea. Rhys called and said the brew shed blew up. I was at the store and rushed over.” She clutched the water bottle with two hands.
“It’s good that you got it put out. Lincoln isn’t going to be very happy when he sees the mess though,” Drew said, eyeing the destruction.
“No, but he’ll be happy no one was hurt.” Yvette let out a sigh. “Listen, Drew, I need to talk to you. Can you help me up?”
Drew immediately offered her his hand. Dahlia moved to put her hand out as well, and together they pulled the exhausted woman to her feet.
She swayed just a little but then steadied herself.
After a deep breath, she linked her hands through his arm, and together they started walking toward the ashes.
Yvette glanced over her shoulder at Dahlia. “Thank you. You’re a goddess.”
“You’re welcome.” Dahlia was still clutching the second water bottle when Harlow appeared a few seconds later.
“Hey,” Harlow said. “Crazy day, right?”
“You can say that again. Want some water?”
“No, but I might want some of that cider I left inside,” Harlow said with a weak smile. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah. I need to go let Shortcake out.” Dahlia was shaken.
There was another fire in Keating Hollow, and pretty much the first thing she’d done was look around to see if Dutton was nearby.
The realization made her feel sick. She’d believed him when he’d told her that he hadn’t started a fire since the day he’d gotten away from his foster family.
Then why had she immediately looked around for him?
Bile rose to the back of her throat as she admonished herself for her reaction. Likely something inside the brew shed had exploded, and she’d just let her imagination get the best of her. Not every fire was set by someone.
They walked back into the brewery. Harlow collected her growlers while Dahlia left some bills on the counter for the waters she’d taken. Since there was no one inside to ring them up, she also scribbled a note on a napkin, letting them know what the bills were for.
“I’m sure Lincoln Townsend doesn’t expect you to pay for the water that you got for his daughter,” Harlow said, giving her an exasperated look.
“That’s true, but I’m taking one with me, so I should pay,” Dahlia said.
Harlow shook her head wryly and said, “You’re one of the good ones, Dahlia Day.”
“Right back atcha.”